Fight to Death
by Penelope Clemence
Summary: Season 2 Finale AU. The trip to Acre to save King Richard has a tragic outcome. Robin Hood and the outlaws face the fight to death with the Sheriff, Guy, and the Saracens. The battle doesn't result in Marian's death, but Robin and his friends suffer significant losses.


_This is a long one-shot about Robin Hood and his friends in the Holy Land. _

_At first, I planned that this story would include five-six chapters, but later I changed my opinion. I cannot write this story because I am very busy with real-life projects._

_In this AU, __the trip to Acre to save King Richard_ has a tragic outcome. Robin Hood and the outlaws face the fight to death with the sheriff, Guy, and the Saracens. The battle doesn't result in Marian's death, but Robin and his friends suffer significant losses.__

_Any reviews are welcome, both the good and the bad. Constructive criticism is always welcome._

_Undoubtedly, I don't own any characters and the show. _

_Hope you will enjoy the story._

* * *

><p><strong>Fight to Death<strong>

High in the blue, cloudless sky, the Eastern sun blazed hotly and relentlessly at the ruins of Imuiz, the deserted town that had been destroyed by the Crusaders after the capture of Acre. The hot air was thick and heavy, filled with a dreadful odor of death and doom.

Tormented by the scorching heat, Robin and Much wandered through the narrow, similarly looking alleys, staying close to the walls of the buildings to avoid detection by Sheriff Vaisey, Guy of Gisborne, and the assassins hired by the Black Knights for the battle in Imuiz.

The Holy Land was a land of contrasts and contradictions. For Christians, it was holy because of its association with the birth, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, where God himself gave laws and oracles, inspired his Prophets, and sent angels on earth, where a man experienced the greatest joy of being closer to the Lord. Yet, it was also a place filled with bloodshed and death, where the eye of Heaven itself because an evil eye because after years of constant wars, goodness and compassion seemed to have been lost among the inward parts of some granitic and ruthless beast that settled down in the heart of the many Crusaders fighting for the so-called grace of God.

Throughout many years, the Crusaders fought against the heathens to reclaim Jerusalem, enduring a million perils and hardships, witnessing unspeakable horrors, and carrying out atrocities with their weapons. For Robin and Much, the Holy Land was the hate-ridden land of death, and the pope's promises for forgiveness of the Crusaders' sins didn't obscure the ugly reality – the killings they had caused with their own hands damned them instead of granting them absolution. Robin and Much didn't see anything holy there, and he wasn't glad to be under the sky of Acre again.

Djaq was happy to finally be at home, after several years which she had spent in England as a slave and then fighting with Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest; yet, she found herself unable to banish thoughts of death from her head. Little John and Allan distasted the place due to the extreme heat and, of course, because of their recent desert ordeal. The outlaws were disappointed in King Richard, who had sentenced them to death on the basis of hearsay, betraying his most loyal subject – Sir Robin of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon and the former captain of the king's private guard.

Although the gang split up in the town, Robin and Much remained together at Robin's initiative, working as a team, like it had always been during the years of their service in the Holy Land: the former manservant was protecting him from the back and warning him about danger.

"I hate this horrible place, and the heat is unbearable," Much complained, wiping his brow from sweat.

Robin inhaled and exhaled deeply, feeling as if he were not taking breaths as the hot air contained a negligible amount of oxygen. He shot Much an annoyed look. "Much, concentrate on the battle."

"We are not surrounded now," the former manservant defended himself.

Robin sighed. "Much, be attentive anyway. We will talk later."

"Master, where is King Richard?"

Robin stared at Much. "The king went after the sheriff. He was very determined to chase after Vaisey."

"It is dangerous!"

The leader of the outlaws gave a nod. "He always rules from the front lines." He furrowed his brows, and a few lines of worry crinkled his forehead for a moment. "I suspect that there are many Saracens hiding here."

"We must find the king. He should leave this place."

"Yes," Robin agreed.

In the different part of the town, Will, Djaq, Little John, and Allan fought with several Saracens.

Djaq was disgusted that she had to kill her own countrymen: her only consolation was that she had to kill in self-defense and because the assassins wanted to kill her and her friends. Allan, John, and Will were becoming more and more exasperated because they were failing to swiftly adapt to the aggressive and ruthless fighting style of the Saracens, who were much more dangerous enemies than the sheriff's guards. When the fight was over, everyone was awash in relief and happy to have a short break between battles.

"I am not being funny, but the Saracens are very dangerous," Allan commented.

"They fight differently. This I don't like," Little John agreed.

"We will get used to that soon," Will said in the voice that lacked conviction.

"Be very attentive. Move fast and attack. Pace and adroitness are very important," Djaq recommended.

"Oh, war is always a gamble. I just don't want to be killed in this horrible place," Allan pointed out.

"The battle we have just had is not the worst you might have in this land," Djaq admitted, smiling sadly. "King Richard's soldiers are formidable fighters, and there were many bloody battles here."

"How is that possible to survive in this hell for years?" John grumbled.

Allan laughed. "I would have gone mad if I had spent five years here."

Will shrugged. "Robin and Much spent many years here."

Djaq ran her eyes over her friends. "The Lionheart's troops suffered from the climate and many of them fell ill with a recurrent fever at the beginning of the Crusade. However, later they got accustomed to the new living conditions. Now many of them can endure the heat rather well." She smiled. "For the Saracens, this heat is usual."

In a moment, the outlaws heard a great shout in Arabic somewhere nearby – the Saracens bellowed an inhuman war cry. The long line of dark-skinned men advanced forward, their long curved blades drawn and flashing silver in the hot air. The Saracens attacked the outlaws with ferocious aggression, lunging at their enemies with the intention to kill them here and now.

Djaq and Will stood next to each other as they fought simultaneously with three soldiers. Will fought with his sword and axe clasped tightly in both of his hands. Djaq decapitated one assassin and sliced the throat of the second attacker. A tall figure approached Allan from the left, and he smashed into the man's head with the hilt of his sword; then Allan turned and buried the blade in the heart of another assassin.

Little John killed two more Saracens, but then he was suddenly surrounded by three more assassins. He plunged his sword into the chest of one man and ambushed the second man, but he failed to notice another Saracen behind. The Saracen took a step forward and plunged his blade into John's side; the blade sliced deeply through John's ribs, and he almost lost his balance as a wave of sharp pain shot through him. John managed to kill the man who had injured him; then he dropped his sword and tumbled to the sand.

Soon all of the assassins were dead. Yet, instead of triumph, they looked with grief-stricken eyes at Little John who lay dead on the ground. They stood beside John's body and watched him in a painful daze. But they didn't have much time for grieving the loss of their friend as, just in a few moments, they heard the familiar ululating war cries and again had to fight for their lives.

Robin charged through the serpentine streets, moving as fast as his legs carried him. Much was trailing behind Robin, this time not complaining and grumbling but looking around in search for the king.

"Hurry up, Much!" Robin picked up his pace to a light jog; fear for the king's life winged his steps.

They both felt as though they had been transported back to the times of the war when they had infiltrated Saracen villages and towns and had secured them for the king. But in such moments in the past, they hadn't felt the same unsurpassable fear and hadn't been devoured by lethal anxiety – which such a striking difference as compared with what they were feeling at the moment.

Robin stopped for a moment and wiped away beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his palm to. His eyes were already smarting from the steady trickle of sweat that ran down his temples, like molten, hot lava pouring from a throat of a volcano. He envied the Saracens who wore loose garments made out of light material, cursing himself for not changing his clothes for a silk tunic at Bassam's house before going to the Crusaders' camp.

The sun had just touched its peak, blazing brighter than any star and sun in the English sky, though it reminded more of a giant red star in a blue sky, a symbol of pointless bloodshed and killings in the Holy Land. But Robin and Much didn't have time to look at around as they saw six Saracens galloping towards them on their scrubby little horses. The assassins pulled back their bow cords, nocked several arrows and prepared to darken the sky with their shafts.

Robin was much better with a bow than the Saracens. Robin knelt and hastily drew his bow; Much crouched behind him. Robin shot an arrow and then another one, his heart beating so fast that he was certain it was going to explode in his chest. A hail of white-feathered arrows whizzed in the hot air, and several Saracens slipped from their horses, falling to the sand. Much also fired several arrows, but his aim had never been as deadly as Robin's. Only a few crossbows answered an arrow storm with a return fire, and the outlaws smiled, looking at a trail of bodies near the frightened horses.

God forgive him, Robin thought, but he still enjoyed a thrill of fight and danger. Perhaps, it was the Holy Land thing that had caused Robin's undercurrent darkness to re-surface and spill out.

Robin Hood wasn't only a peace-loving fighter for justice and the savior of the poor – he also was a professional soldier who had once been the king's chief general and right-hand man. The war had awakened in Robin a ravening monster with bloodlust that could consume everyone around, but he usually controlled his instincts of a killer. Nevertheless, if he was cornered or angry, some mysterious process could revive the darkness in him, resulting in great loss of lives.

Robin turned to Much. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were dark, shining with perilous light of death. "They are dead," he said dryly; he averted his gaze, looking at the bodies of the assassins.

Much knew what Robin's gaze meant, and let out a sigh of frustration. A frown marred his forehead. "We are killing, Robin," he said quietly. "We are again killing."

Robin gave a slight nod. "I don't like that," he admitted. "But I will kill for the king and for England."

"What should we do now?" Much looked weary of heat and worry.

"To find the king," Robin said nervously. "Where is Carter?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him, Master."

"It is a good luck that I persuaded Marian to stay away from the battlefield." Robin sighed heavily. "I hope that she will keep her word and stay out of the battle."

Soon Robin and Much lost each other among the countless narrow passages in the town.

Robin was getting more nervous because there was no sign of the king. Suddenly, fear got the upper hand, and he decided to change his tactic – he needed to find a vantage point to observe the whole town instead of being cautious and hiding from their enemies. So Robin climbed atop of the building, running his eyes over his surroundings and looking down on the road.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he noticed a tall, muscular, handsome man whose horse passed on by the roof where Robin had positioned himself. The man was King Richard the Lionheart. His red-gold hair glinted in the brisk sunlight; his deep blue eyes were staring straight ahead. The king was alive, but his life was still in danger, and he had to leave the battlefield, Robin mused.

Robin smiled. He loved the king in spite of his liege's grievous mistake that could have resulted in the deaths of his friends and his own death. He would do everything to save and protect Richard, including giving his life for Richard, with the only exception – he would never allow Marian to sacrifice her precious life for the king. After his reconciliation with Marian, Robin had realized that she was much more important to him than England and the king, and he would have never chosen his duty to the king over his love for Marian – never ever again.

"Sire, it is a trap. You should leave this place," Robin said in an urgent voice, looking down at the king. He spoke in Norman-French, the king's native tongue. Richard could speak English, but he preferred to speak Norman-French as his English was heavily accented.

King Richard tightened the reins and paused, looking up at Robin. He was pleased to see his most loyal subject, whose loyalty he had betrayed today. At the thought of what he had almost caused, Richard felt anger at himself simmering in his blood, and his eyes burned with anguish. Suddenly, he spotted an assassin who stood behind Robin; it was Karim who had posed as Saladin during the meeting with the king. He drew his sword and threw it into the Saracen, saving Robin's life.

"Be careful, Robin," Richard warned, speaking in Norman-French.

Robin looked over his shoulder, at the fallen Saracen, understanding that the monarch had just saved his life. He turned his gaze at Richard and flashed a bright smile. "Thank you, my lord."

The king smiled back. "Welcome, Robin." He wanted to ride off, but Robin's urgent voice stopped him.

"Wait, sire!" Robin called. "I will ask Much to accompany you to the camp."

"Robin, you need him here. He will stay with you."

"You cannot ride alone!"

Richard smiled cordially. "I will be alright," he assured him in a personal manner, without using the royal etiquette which he often didn't use in Robin's presence.

"Sire, you cannot leave alone," Robin insisted. He was witless with anxiety, and his head was strangely empty, his mind a little dazed, and he wasn't able to speak long, persuasive speeches at the moment.

Richard interrupted him. "Robin, we will be fine, and you need Much here." He smiled cordially at the younger man. "Good luck." Then he rode off.

Robin shook his head, resigned. "God help us here," he said to himself.

Robin climbed down the roof and stalked along the street. He paused near one of the deserted buildings, and his eyes made a swift but thorough scrutiny of his surroundings.

Robin discovered Nasir hiding on the roof of a nearby building as the man targeted the king. Black fury coursed through him at the thought that the criminal, who had masqueraded as Saladin's messenger, now wanted to murder his King. Robin nocked an arrow, and Nasir fell to the sand.

For a few moments, Robin observed the slight twitching of Nasir's limbs before the man gurgled with blood and went still, drawing his last breath. There was a quick movement in his peripheral vision, and Robin put his hand on the hilt of his sword, but he was too late and peril was too close.

Next instant, Robin was thrown to the ground by another assassin who slammed a fist into his face and then into his stomach. Robin doubled with pain and groaned, but he forced himself to get to his feet, prepared to defend himself; he lunged at the assassin with his Saracen curved sword.

The new enemy wasn't the Saracen – he was Sir James of Lambton, the current head of the king's private guard and the traitor, who had been bought by Vaisey and had been the sheriff's spy in the king's camp for a long time. Robin swiftly got to his feet.

James easily parried Robin's blow, his gaze clear and focused as he began to plan how to overpower and kill Robin, whom he had envied and hated for so long. James lunged forward, who sidestepped a blow and reflected it with a sidelong parry.

The two men danced around one another, exchanging fierce and masterful blows over and over again, each of them masters of weaponry and each of them determined to kill the other. Robin was taunting his opponent, which made James angrier and more determined to kill.

Robin was more tired than his enemy, who used his better shape to his advantage. Robin dodged from a blow and took a step back; he paused only for a brief moment, and James launched a new attack, swinging his blade at Robin's head. He ducked from a blow, but he wasn't quick enough to launch a new attack on the traitor. He felt his head swimming, for he was already too tired, fighting only on his enthusiasm generated by his desire to survive.

James took advantage of Robin at the moment of weakness: he threw himself at Robin and began to try to strangle Robin. Robin found himself on the ground, pressed by James' heavier body to the burning sand; his sword slipped from his hand and he was now disarmed.

"Now I will finally deal with you, Locksley," James said between clenched teeth.

Robin saw Much who was behind James. "I wouldn't be so sure if I were you."

Much swung his broadsword and beheaded the traitor with a single strike. "Disgusting traitor," he said hatefully; his voice was a hissing sound.

Robin smiled gratefully, his blue eyes sparkling. "Thank you, Much."

"Welcome, Master." Much looked at Robin with concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I am," Robin said abruptly; he wiped his forehead of sweat.

"Now you are safe." Much frowned in disgust as he looked at what remained from James' body.

Robin sighed. "But the king is not safe," he said, a touch of regret creeping into his voice. "I am very worried." He had never allowed King Richard to travel unprotected when he had led the king's private guard. But today he made a mistake by letting Richard escape from Imuiz alone, which could be fatal for his sovereign.

Much looked alarmed. "We must find Gisborne and the sheriff."

"Yes," Robin said. He took his sword and sheathed it. "Let's go."

§§§

Sheriff Vaisey plotted the murder of Carter, whom he had once hired to kill Robin Hood but who had betrayed him. Vaisey's eyes narrowed calculatingly as he spotted Carter who was walking down the street. Carter was a formidable fighter, who wouldn't hesitate to kill, unlike Robin Hood, and Vaisey wanted the other man dead. Now Carter was alone, and the sheriff had a great chance. Hiding behind the corner of a building, the sheriff patiently waited for the young man to appear at the crossroads.

Carter stopped in the middle of the street to catch his breath and bearings; then he took a step forward, intending to keep walking. Carter reached the crossroads and took a right turn, and then Vaisey instantly emerged from the corner and attacked the Crusader, slicing his right side deeply with his Saracen curved blade and laughing at the sight of Carter's pained expression.

"Ah," Carter breathed, feeling the blade penetrating his flesh. With a groan, he fell to the ground.

The sheriff laughed maliciously. "Bye-bye, Blondie. You are a traitor, and I never forgive betrayal!"

Humming something under his breath, the sheriff strode forward, leaving Carter to bleed into the sand. Vaisey didn't see the Crusader's eyes open: Carter was injured, but he was still alive. Clutching his side with his right hand, Carter put all his strength to rise from the sand. The cut wasn't too deep as he had leaned down before the blade sliced him, which had prevented him from being run through by Vaisey's sword. Carter tore his white tunic apart, intending to use the cloth to stop bleeding.

During all that time, Marian stayed in a dilapidated building, where Robin had left her for her safety. Standing near the window and staring at the expanse of sand, she thought that she regretted she didn't have a sword so she could participate in the battle. Instead of being angry at Robin for his desire to isolate her, Marian tried to concentrate on the shouts and the distant clash of metal.

Marian was exhausted from the blistering heat and continuous worry. During the many months of the trip to the Holy Land, she had believed that Robin had died. Locked in the basement of the sheriff's ship with cargo, Marian had thought of Robin. Sometimes, the sheriff had come to her to gloat that Robin and his gang had been finally killed by his mercenaries and nobody could have saved her.

Marian had grieved the loss of her presumably-deceased fiancé, whose death had left her hollow and numb. A black darkness of grief and hollowness had captured her entire being in a viselike grip of paralysis. It had been much worse than she had felt during the first months after Robin's departure to Acre, when she had been heartbroken and stayed in bedchamber, refusing to eat, suffering from insomnia, praying for the safety of her foolish but beloved Robin, and begrudging herself for not marrying him before the Crusade. But the situation had been different during the voyage to Acre: she had believed that Robin had been dead, and she had been dying from a broken heart, hurting beneath her skin and wishing to die herself.

When they had arrived in the Holy Land, the miracle had happened: Robin Hood and the outlaws hadn't been killed in a barn. When the sheriff had delivered Marian into the desert, she had been happy to see Robin alive. She had been much happier when they had exchanged marriage vows, waiting for death. But then Carter had saved them, and she had thought that maybe they had been blessed by God as they had again cheated death. Marian hoped that there would be no interruption of this blessedness and that Robin would defeat the sheriff.

Marian wondered how men could fight in these despondent lands for years, where at times death could seem blessing and oblivion after all the horrors and atrocities the Crusaders had seen and carried with their swords and bows for the liberation of Jerusalem. Perhaps, all these men had lost their minds to the spell of enigmatic sands that surrounded them day and night. She couldn't understand how Robin could have survived in the Holy Land for so long; only now she began to realize how much her betrothed had suffered during the years of his service to the king.

Marian sighed as her mind drifted back to Robin and the outlaws, and then to Robin and Guy. Even after she had learnt that Guy had indeed attempted regicide once, she still hoped that he wouldn't try to assassinate King Richard again. Marian feared that Robin and Guy would face each other in a fight because she didn't want Guy dead, all the more to be killed by Robin. Nevertheless, regicide was a grave crime, and if Robin had to kill Guy to save the king or his own life, she would accept that.

While Marian brooded in an ominous silence, Sheriff Vaisey was only in a step from the completion of his divine mission – King Richard's murder.

After he had stabbed Carter, Sheriff Vaisey walked along the street, staying close to the walls. He was looking for Gisborne and his other accomplices, thinking that they probably needed to kill Robin at first and deal with the king. But then he stopped in the end of the street, and breathed an audible breath of amazement at the sight of King Richard fleeing Imuiz on his horse alone and unprotected.

"Long live King Richard!" Vaisey proclaimed in a more than cheerful voice. He quickly pulled back the string of his Saracen recurved bow, aiming at the king's heart from the back. There was a malevolent smile on his lips as he imagined the king's death. "Oh, no!" he said mockingly.

King Richard knew nothing about the danger, and he couldn't see the sheriff fire an arrow.

As Richard's horse reached the end of an alley, the arrow whizzed in the air and struck the king in his shoulder. Richard screamed as white-hot pain shot through him. The horse continued its way through the deserted courtyard without stopping and passed by the fountain; in the middle of the square, the king slipped from the saddle and fell to the ground. Richard felt dizzy, his head was swimming as he lay on the sand; he closed his eyes and moaned in pain.

Guy of Gisborne was not very far from the courtyard. He heard a howl of pain, hoping that the Saracens had already finished off Robin Hood and his gang. Walking along one of many sandy paths, he quickened his footsteps. He paused, blinking and shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun to examine the surroundings. Then he continued walking in the direction of the courtyard. He hoped that Marian would hide from the assassins whom he had persuaded to spare her life despite Vaisey's protests.

Marian, too, heard the king's howl of pain, most of all fearing that something had happened to Robin. With a pounding heart, she stormed out of the building and ran towards the sound of the scream.

The similar Arabic buildings flickered before her eyes, but she ran and ran, not caring that spots were starting to form in her vision. As she finally appeared in the deserted courtyard, she paused for instant few moments, being rather short of breath. The king wasn't in her sight yet; everything was of the same morbid color – only the yellow-tinted sand and white buildings surrounded her.

Marian strode towards the fountain and stopped for a brief moment, running her eyes across the square. Her heart missed a beat and then pounded harder as her gaze fixed on the injured Crusader, with an arrow protruding out of his back. She gasped in horror as she recognized the King of England himself in the fallen warrior. Marian couldn't believe that the king lay there dead or dying.

Her fear gradually merged in a rock-solid resoluteness to fight for the cause and England, and she rushed to the wounded monarch. Maybe there was a reason why she had been in Acre: maybe she was destined to save King Richard, she mused. She felt relief wash over her as she noticed Richard move his arm – he was alive. She made a step to the king but then paused as she saw Guy enter the courtyard from the opposite side with his sword drawn.

Marian was in the midst of the terrible horror – she was alone against Guy, weaponless and tired, but she feared not for her own life but for the king's.

She ran forward and stopped next to Guy. "Guy!" she called. "Guy!"

Gisborne stopped rooted to the spot, for a moment mesmerized by Marian who looked gorgeous in her long white dress, her long, dark hair streaming down her shoulders and her alabaster skin having a translucent glow in the sunlight. Guy's steel blue eyes met Marian's sapphire orbs that were large and expressive, like a cloudless blue sky. Marian looked like an angel among death, like a goddess in her white gown. Yet, Marian wasn't innocent, Guy reminded himself, for she was the Nighwatchman and she had even tried to murder the sheriff.

His thoughts were directed to Marian and the past events only for a short moment, and then he remembered that he had to kill the king. Guy was angry that Marian had come to the courtyard. He didn't want her to see how he would murder the man, whom she held in a high regard thanks to the king's glorious reputation among the common people of England and the foolish tales about the king, which Hood had probably shared with her.

Marian stood very close to Guy, her hands outstretched protectively as she blocked access to the king. "Stop!" she shouted. She gave the man an icy glare, her eyes full of cold disdain. "It is over, Guy!"

Guy made a step forward. "Marian, get out of the way!" The king's death was all that mattered: it would give him great power and status, and he would marry Marian then.

Marian stepped backwards, closer to King Richard. She feared that Guy would kill the defenseless and weaponless monarch. Her knees were shaking, but her face didn't betray her true emotions. She knew that she had to do everything in her power to guard the king until Robin and the others came to the courtyard. She couldn't let her fear lead her astray, and she steeled herself against it.

She gazed into Gisborne's eyes, her expression blank. "All this time I have been fighting for England," she announced passionately. "Do you think I am going to let you kill England?" She didn't move when the king's would-be assassin took a step forward and raised the sword, swinging it in the air.

"Get out of the way!" he bellowed.

Looking into Guy's cold eyes glittering with danger, Marian felt a feeling of dread sweep through her, but her face didn't reveal her emotional tumult. She dragged a deep breath, trying to regain her composure not only in her appearance but also inwardly. Gazing boldly at Guy, her eyes challenging him to a fight, she discovered that she no longer was scared even when she saw the sword so close to her face. Her rebellious spirit flared to life, making her more resolute to save the king.

"Guy, don't commit treason! Stop before it is too late!" She again attempted to persuade Guy to change his mind, also trying to buy more time for the king and herself.

Rage passed through Guy. "Marian, get out of the way!"

Marian shot Guy a fulminating glare. "If you want to kill the king, you will have to kill me first!"

Guy looked startled. "No, no."

"I won't let you murder the king and England!" she persisted.

"Marian, Richard is not England. He abandoned his people to fight in these godforsaken lands. He doesn't care about England and his people. England will be better without Richard."

"England will be worse with Prince John on the throne than with King Richard!"

"Move aside!" Gisborne's voice boomed; he stepped forward. "We are going to get out of this. I am going to do this thing, and then I will have power beyond measure." His sword still raised, he made another step forward. "I will do this and then we will be together," he promised.

A soft laugh escaped her lips. "Together? This is impossible." She kept her hands defensively, protecting the king. As he took a step forward, she had to back away from him.

Gisborne looked abashed. "What?"

"I would rather die than be with you, Guy of Gisborne," she fired, a smile hovering over her lips.

"No!" he cried out, shaking his head in disbelief.

Marian knew that she no longer could distract Gisborne by talking about England, King Richard, and Prince John. She had to do something more effective, but she could defeat Gisborne only with words. And she decided on the course of action – she would break Guy by telling him the truth about her real relationship with Robin. The truth would break him, making him incapable of murdering the king.

Marian gave a nod in affirmation. She flashed a dazzling smile as the image of Robin's handsome face, framed by sandy hair roguishly falling over his forehead, entered her mind. "I am going to marry Robin Hood." Her eyes sparkled with joy. "_I love Robin Hood_," she reiterated.

Guy blinked in shock, his eyes wild. "No!"

"I love Robin Hood and only him," she repeated. "You could never love a man like you."

There was so much passion in Marian's love confession that Guy shuddered in shock mingled with rage. He felt as if she had driven the blade into his heart. He took a sharp intake of breath, but the air seemed too heavy to breathe. He didn't want to believe her, but her words, like a judge's verdict, rang in his ears. Looking at Marian's smiling face and her sparkling eyes, Guy knew that she had said to him the truth – she loved his mortal enemy.

The idealization of the young woman Guy had fallen in love with was no longer present. Suddenly, the image of an ideal Marian, which had already been tarnished by some shocking revelations, was broken into many small pieces. The image of a treacherous woman took Marian's place in his mind, whilst Marian had always lived and breathed within her own horizon. Her world was filled with dreams about Robin Hood, the king's savior and the people's hero whom everyone loved and admired, and there was no place there for a troubled and wretched creature like Guy.

§§§

Guy's eyes filled with tears of pain and bitterness. He had always wanted someone to make him happy and help him forget the years of misery which his younger sister, Isabella, and he had spent in Normandy in abject poverty after their banishment from Locksley. When he had met Marian, he had been interested in her because she had been betrothed to Robin before the young Earl of Huntingdon had left for the Crusade; but, over time, Guy had fallen in love with Marian.

A tide of deafening, mind-clouding anger crashed over Guy, and he suddenly craved to eradicate the source of the words that had broken his whole world. He was in a fume of vexation, rage, and hatred, and could hardly control himself to speak civilly to Marian. Instead, he found himself possessed by the desire to strike Marian with his sword for all her lies and deceits, and he made a step forward.

Marian backed away, her hands outstretched. There were a dazzling smile of blissful happiness on her face, but it wasn't the smile for Guy because he knew that she was thinking of Robin Hood. Her smile infuriated him, and a feeling of astoundingly strong hatred clenched his heart. He no longer controlled himself – he wanted to hurt her as much as she had just hurt him.

But Gisborne stood rooted as he heard the English voice behind his back. He knew that voice, but it was not Vaisey's or Robin Hood's voice. He cursed under his breath, but didn't move.

"Well, well, well, Sir Guy of Gisborne," a voice came from a distant part of the courtyard. "It seems that I came here in time. Now we can laugh on the wrong side of our faces."

Marian was relieved to see Carter who was holding a bow in his hands, targeting Gisborne's back. She noticed that the Crusader was wounded and that his wound had been bandaged with rags.

"I will never allow you to kill Marian," Carter pledged. He strode forward, his gait a little bit unsteady.

Guy swung around to face the intruder, and his face contorted in pure rage. "Carter!" He scowled fiercely. "You must be dead." Vaisey had boasted that he had murdered Carter when they had met in one of the alleys before splitting up again in search for the king.

Carter scoffed. "Gisborne, rumors about my death are exaggerated."

"Then you will die now," Gisborne threatened. He raised his sword and pointed it at Carter. "You are injured and unable to fight with me. You won't win the battle."

Carter laughed, despite the pain in his side. "I don't need to fight with you – I will shoot you."

Guy sneered. "You are not a renowned marksman like Hood. You may miss."

Carter let out a laugh. "My archery skills are not as outstanding as Robin's, but I won't miss from such a small distance." He laughed again. "Let's try." Then he fired an arrow.

Carter's arrow struck Guy in his right shoulder; it would have hit him into his chest if he hadn't turned away. Guy screamed horribly in pain and staggered backwards, clutching his shoulder. Carter released another arrow that struck Guy's hip on the left side, and the man in black leather sank to his knees with a savage roar, his sword slipping from his hand.

Marian flinched at the sight of the defeated Gisborne. She glanced at Guy and felt his eyes on her, full of pain, sorrow, and bitterness. His wild eyes bore into her, into the very core of her heart, and she subconsciously blamed herself for Guy's demise. Then she reminded herself that Guy had intended to kill the king. She was grateful that Carter had saved her life, thinking that Guy would have killed her after her confession if the Crusader hadn't found them in time.

Marian turned her gaze at Carter, giving him a smile of gratitude. "Thank you, Carter."

Carter smiled back. "You are welcome, Marian."

Marian marched to Gisborne decidedly, her lips tightly pressed. Even though Carter had wounded Guy twice, she wanted to make sure that the sheriff's henchman would do nothing to the king. She stopped near Guy and crouched, then took his sword in her hands. Not forgetting about the curved dagger which Guy always wore on his waist, she leaned over Guy's prone form and collected the weapon.

Now Guy was wounded and disarmed, no longer dangerous for King Richard and Marian, but she wasn't happy because she felt guilty of provoking Guy to action by confessing her love for Robin. As she made sure that he had no other weapons, Marian gave him a compassionate, almost guilty look, but she could see only anger and contempt in his fierce glare.

"I am sorry," Marian whispered, looking at Guy; a sort of guilty warmth pulsed in her heart.

Guy stared at her with pain-burnt eyes. "Don't play games with me, Marian. You are a liar and Hood's whore. I don't believe you." He moved his right leg and groaned as pain slashed through his body. His eyes were wide with pain, his open mouth working soundlessly in attempt to lash out at her. In a while, he spoke again, slowly and in a trembling voice. "Go and find your precious Hood if he is still alive."

Marian swallowed painfully. "I am sorry," she repeated. She straightened her spine and stepped away from him, moving towards the king.

Gisborne again tried to move his body and roared with unimaginable pain. He understood that he had been seriously, if not gravely, injured by Carter's arrows. Guy extended his hand and removed the arrow from his hip, but it caused him such a great pain that he screamed. He only wished to pull out the source of pain, but in fact he aggravated his condition: without an arrow, the bleeding from his wound intensified. Guy cursed aloud, and lowered his chin, staring at the torrent of blood pouring from his hip; he could also see the crimson pool of blood on the sand beneath him.

Although the second arrow that had hit him in his shoulder caused him a huge pain, Guy didn't take it out. Obviously, he wouldn't be able to get to his feet and leave the courtyard, he mused. Although Carter hadn't killed him on the spot, Guy suspected that he could die from huge blood loss or infection. If bleeding didn't stop soon, he would be as dead as the desert itself by the end of the day, provided that nobody of Robin Hood's gang would kill him.

Carter smiled at Marian as she approached him. "Now it is our time to laugh." He had saved Marian, but they also had to help the king. "Let's go and help the king."

Marian nodded. "I wonder where Robin and the others are."

"I hope they will come here soon," Carter responded. "I won't be the best fighter if we are attacked. It is a simple luck that I have a bow; I took it from one of the fallen Saracens."

Carter and Marian made their way across the courtyard to the king. Marian heard Guy's moan, wishing to turn around, but she couldn't waste time because the king was more important than his would-be assassin. Trying to block the sounds of Guy's moans out of her head, Marian squatted to examine the king's wound; Carter stood behind her, patiently waiting.

"We need Djaq to tend to the king's wound," Marian said, her eyes full of concern.

"Djaq is not here, and we cannot wait," Carter remarked.

"Then I will do what I can," she pledged.

King Richard opened his eyes. "We are fine," he murmured in Norman-French, in an official tone and using his royal "we". The king remained regal and mannered even when he was injured.

"My liege, you are alive!" Carter exclaimed with a warm smile on his face.

"Yes, we are," the king rasped. "But someone shot us."

King Richard looked at Marian who gave him a small, tremulous smile. The king nodded at her, giving his permission to tend to his wound, with an expression of surprise and much admiration; he was impressed by her boldness. Marian leaned over Richard and removed the arrow from his shoulder; the king winced in pain, but his expression quickly recovered neutrality; the injury wasn't a mortal one, though the lion could contract a fever later.

Although he was in pain, Richard heard a part of Marian's conversation with Gisborne. During the war, Robin had told the king that his heart had belonged to Lady Marian of Knighton, daughter of Sir Edward of Knighton, the late Sheriff of Nottingham. It was a mystery how Marian had arrived in Acre and had ended up in the desert with Robin, and Richard decided to learn the whole story later.

"My liege, the wound is not very dangerous, but it must be properly treated," Marian told the king in Norman-French; she cast an apologetic glance at him. "I am sorry for causing you pain." Though she had never met Richard before, she wasn't surprised that he didn't talk to them in English: Robin had informed her that he had always spoken with the king in Norman-French in Acre.

"Thank you, my lady," Richard responded with a smile. "Where are the others?"

Marian leapt to her feet and went to the fountain to fetch some water. She had to clean and bandage the wound. Then she returned to the king, listening to the conversation between her liege and Carter.

"On my way here, I saw many fallen Saracens. It was indeed a trap. I counted at least fifteen dead Saracens," Carter reported.

Richard sighed heavily. "We underestimated Lord Vaisey's cunning."

"Sire, I have bad news," Carter began cautiously.

Marian looked at Carter, her gazes alarmed. "What?"

"What happened, Carter?" the king asked the same question.

"I found James among the fallen warriors. He was headless," Carter informed.

Richard looked amazed. "What? James is in the town and is dead? Are you sure?"

Carter nodded grimly. "Yes, I am sure."

Marian shivered as she saw anger in Carter's blue eyes. Her gaze slid to the king. "Sire, I was delivered to the desert and tied up to the poles by Sheriff Vaisey and Sir James."

The lion scowled as unmatched fury swept through him. "It means that James conspired with the sheriff to kill me. James was the Black Knight!" James was captain of the private guard, the king's right-hand man and his close friend, and the revelation shocked Richard to the core.

Marian was quiet. She continued working with the king's wound, cleaning it and thanking God that the arrow struck the lion only in his shoulder. Djaq would have done everything better, but the monarch needed help right now. As the king nodded, signaling his agreement, Carter tore apart the king's mantle, so they could use it as a bandage for Richard's shoulder and arm.

"Yes, my lord. James was here," Carter confirmed.

"Foul traitor! We trusted him so much! Let him rot in hell!" Richard fumed, his eyes shooting daggers. "He was with us when Robin came to warn me about regicide." He felt very guilty of distrusting Robin and sentencing him to death because of hearsay; he should have known better whom to believe.

"James was well aware of our deals and used it to trap Robin," Carter pointed out.

Richard's expression softened at the sound of Robin's name. "Carter, have you seen Robin?"

Carter slightly inclined his head. "I caught a glimpse of Robin on the roof of a building. He killed an assassin and disappeared. I heard distant clash of metal and war screams. On the way here, I found many Saracens killed from Robin's bow; I can easily recognize his arrows."

Marian finished cleaning the wound and bandaged the king's arm. "Done," she said.

"Thank you, my lady," Richard said with gratitude.

Marian blushed slightly. "My lord, you still need your physician's help." She let out a sigh. "But Djaq is not here because Robin and others must be fighting somewhere else."

Carter looked at Marian. "I discovered the big man, Little John, on the ground, in one of the alleys."

"Is he dead?" the king inquired.

Carter shook his head. "I think so."

Marian felt sharp pain in her heart. "Oh God…" She stumbled with words.

"We are at war," the monarch returned calmly. He was a military commander since early adulthood, and he was accustomed to death.

A sigh tumbled from Carter's lips. "My condolences, Marian." Then his eyes flew to Richard. "Sire, we must leave this place for your safety. You are injured and need help."

"Carter, you also need a physician," the king pointed out.

Carter smiled. "The bleeding stopped. I even cleaned the wound. I will survive."

"But Robin and the others aren't here!" Marian objected in a low voice.

"We must leave. We don't know how many mercenaries are still hiding here," Carter explained.

"We will take reinforcement at the camp and return," Richard suggested. He didn't want to abandon Robin in the battle, but he and Carter were injured and couldn't fight.

"But, I–" Marian was interrupted by the king.

A stern look crossed Richard's face. "The battlefield is not a place for a woman, Lady Marian. You will leave with us," he commanded strictly. "Robin is a trained soldier, one of the best I have ever seen. He knows how to fight with the Saracens, outwit them, and win his battles."

"Marian, Robin didn't want you to be here. You know that he treasures your life," Carter interposed.

"We are leaving," the king concluded with a ring of finality in his voice.

She let out a sigh of resignation. "As you wish, sire." She wasn't pleased with the king's decision, but the reminder about Robin's unwillingness to risk her life brought her back to her senses. She was alone, with two wounded men, and she couldn't resist the army of the Turks.

Carter helped King Richard get to his feet. Richard straightened his spine, but any movement resulted in pain, and he clutched his injured arm. The three of them passed by Gisborne and walked to the king's horse. Marian cast a quick glance at Gisborne and inwardly shuddered at the sight of the huge pool of blood beneath his motionless form, but she could do nothing for him because the king wanted to leave Imuiz. Suddenly, the familiar singsong voice made them pause.

Sheriff Vaisey stumbled into the courtyard. "Blah-di-blah-di-blah! We have found the high and mighty King Richard the Lionheart!" he drawled every word, almost singing. "But I don't see the lion here!" He laughed maliciously as his eyes took in the wounded king. "Where is the lion? I see only the injured prey that I shot from my bow!" His gaze slid to Carter and Marian. "Oh, this is great! This is so good! We have Gisborne's leper and treacherous assassin here! Brilliant!"

There were several people with the sheriff – three Saracens and two Black Knights, the Earl of Northampton and the Earl of Hereford. They smiled at the confused faces of the king and his friends.

§§§

King Richard, Carter, and Marian stared at the intruders in shock, understanding that they had been trapped by the Black Knights. Richard eyed the traitors, his face expressionless, as if carved out of marble, his posture regal, though inside he shuddered at the thought of being assassinated by his own subjects. Carter swore many oaths in his mind and prepared his bow to defend them. Marian blanched, and put her hand on the hilt of Guy's sword.

Vaisey ran his eyes across the square, his gaze fixing on Guy's motionless form. "Gisborne! Gisborne!" he cried out. He paused, waiting for Guy's reaction; as their eyes met, he went on. "Shame on you, my dear boy! You are utterly incompetent and stupid. You again failed to kill the king."

"Gisborne is a miserable weakling. He is incapable of killing the king," the Earl of Hereford opined.

"Gisborne, you are a weak man," Vaisey threw a venomous insult, sneering at Guy. "I saw a deep potential in you, but you failed to kill the king twice. You are a pathetic man – you are a complete fool and an imbecile. You deserve to bleed out to death because you are useless."

The Earl of Hereford gave a wry smile. "He disappointed us, and he is a dead load."

"Gisborne failed even when he was so close," the Earl of Northampton remarked with contempt.

Vaisey laughed. "La di da di da! Gisborne will be a little dead soon – I will take care of that." He swung his gaze at the king, Marian, and Carter. "I am so happy! This is going to be a great day!" His crafty smile grew wider. "Now we will finish what Gisborne failed to do. Lepers will finally get leprosy and traitors death!" He rubbed his hands in satisfaction. "And England will have a new king!"

"Traitor," Guy muttered to himself. The sheriff and the Black Knights didn't plan to save him. He had served Vaisey for so long to gain power and re-establish the proud heritage of the Gisbornes, but in the end Vaisey and his conspirators betrayed him.

Guy wholeheartedly hated the sheriff and the Black Knights at that moment. He would have gladly murdered Vaisey if he wasn't so badly injured. It was a strange sensation for Gisborne, but he wished Robin and the gang to come to the courtyard and kill the sheriff and his allies. He didn't care for King Richard, but he didn't want Marian to die; he hated Marian for her betrayals and for choosing his sworn enemy over him, but he also still loved her.

Guy scoffed at himself. He shouldn't dream of rescue: he was seriously wounded, and even if he was saved by the Black Knights, he would never earn Vaisey's favor after his second failure. If Hood killed the Black Knights and if Guy survived, King Richard would condemn him to being hanged, drawn, and quartered for his participation in two regicides. It would be better for him to die from his injuries.

"Prepare to die," Vaisey declared, in glorious notes of triumph.

His eyes brightening with the excitement of a victory, the sheriff laughed with a ringing, malevolent laugh, and the Black Knights laughed as well. It was the day of their ultimate triumph over King Richard and Robin Hood, which was sweeter than anything else for each of them. A thick, lethal fog of death was swirling over the abandoned courtyard, and the only hope was that Robin and the outlaws would appear before the king and his loyal subjects were brutally murdered.

Richard bent his head and asked Marian the sheriff's name. Then he glanced at Vaisey. "How many times have you attempted regicide, Lord Vaisey?" he asked in English, with a heavy French accent.

Vaisey laughed. Even in the bright sunlight, he looked shadowy, as though he had wrapped the night around himself. "It will be our last attempt, King Richard the Lionheart," he said waspishly. "This time Hood won't save you – we have won!"

"Are you sure that our younger brother will be a better ruler?" the king addressed the sheriff.

Vaisey shot the king a grin. "It is not about who is more suitable to be king."

"How much did my brother pay to you? What did he promise you?" Richard questioned.

The sheriff smirked. "It is a matter of power."

King Richard burst into scornful laughter. "Murdering us is not the brightest idea of yours, Lord Vaisey. John has a fickle nature, and you may easily lose his favor. He used you to create the Black Knights Club and murder me, but if he doesn't need you, he will dispose of you without any second thought. He may even ask one of the other Black Knights to kill you in cold blood."

Vaisey stiffened. There was a lot of truth in Richard's words, but he didn't want to think of such things at that moment. Absolute power was within such an easy grasp, and that blinded him entirely. "I am tired of talking. Don't try to win more time in hopes for salvation."

"I am also bored. Let's finish this." The Earl of Hereford had never liked King Richard and hated him since his removal from the king's retinue. "My lord, your favorite, Robin of Locksley, should already be dead. It is your turn now," he said to the king, his lips curling in an off-putting smile.

"The Earl of Northampton and the Earl of Hereford!" Carter yelled. He eyed them, frowning in disgust. "You are traitors to England and your king!"

The words about Robin's death spattered Marian with desolation. "No! Robin cannot be dead! That is not true!" she cried out as the whiplash of fear made her almost prostrate with emotional pain.

"Quiet," Richard warned Marian.

Hereford smiled. "Locksley should have been dead in that Saracen attack organized by Gisborne, but he survived. Anyway, his minutes on earth are numbered."

Richard looked at the treacherous Crusaders. "I understand why you want us dead, Hereford, although we sent you home for insubordination because of your own shameful behavior. You deserted our first march on Jerusalem and disgraced yourself in the brothels of Acre." His gaze slid to Northampton. "What did we do wrong with you, Northampton? We have always held you in a high regard."

"Power and wealth," Northampton said unhesitatingly.

"Sure," the king breathed. It was as simple as sunset and nightfall. All traitors dreamed of power and wealth, but no one thought that they had sold their immortal souls to the devil for a handful of coins.

"Enough talking! I want to hear the lion's agonizing screams of pain!" Vaisey snarled. "You are cornered, aren't you, the lion?"

"You will also be cornered by John sooner or later." King Richard welcomed an honorable death on the battlefield, but he definitely didn't want to die at the hands of his own countrymen. Yet, if he had to die, he would face his death with indifference and dignity, which would unnerve his enemies.

"Show respect to your king!" Carter reprimanded.

"It is alright, Carter." Richard laughed. "You think that we are afraid of you and death, Lord Vaisey? If you believe in that, then you are an utter fool."

"Vaisey must grow up and improve his manners," Marian said aloud, with a smile. She told Robin that he'd had to grow up, and her barbs had always irritated the master of Sherwood, though he could act quite immaturely when he was nervous. Now her words were said right to the point.

King Richard and Carter smiled. Gisborne also heard her words and broke into a large smile. It was a typical Marian – a fearless, vigorous, and audacious woman.

Vaisey was so angry that his throat closed up, threatening to choke him. He regarded Marian, an ugly smile on his lips. "My dear missy, I thought that a cat got your tongue, but I see that you haven't lost your wits. You usually had so much to say to Gisborne, whom you fed with lies to spy on me. And, my leper friend, your debt to me hasn't been redeemed yet."

"And when will you pay for your crimes, Vaisey?" Marian challenged.

"Lepers are dangerous and untrustworthy." The sheriff smiled broadly and put a hand on the hilt of his sword. "Now you will pay for your lies and sharp tongue. But, at first the Lionheart will roar like a lion."

"Bla-di-bla-di-bla-bla-di-bla-blah! A clue: no, Vaisey," a well-modulated voice, parodying the sheriff, came from the other side of the square.

King Richard, Carter, and Marian turned around at the sound of the familiar baritone. Marian smiled, feeling euphoric. Carter and the king breathed a sigh of unbelievable relief. Robin, Much, Allan, Will, and Djaq were there; neither of them was injured. Little John's body indeed lay in one of the alley where the outlaws had left him to continue the fight for the king's life.

"Hood! Again you!" Vaisey's face evolved from paleness to redness.

Hereford clenched his fists. "Locksley always comes out of nowhere."

"Robin," Marian whispered, a smile quivering in the corners of her lips.

"Always at your service, Vaisey," Robin retorted with an insolent grin. "I think this regicide attempt has been thwarted. Prince John won't be happy at all."

"Kill the king! Kill Hood! Kill them!" Vaisey's high-pitched voice coursed through the air.

Gisborne heard the whole conversation; he was astounded that he hadn't passed out yet. The bleeding from the wound in his hip had decelerated, but he had already lost much blood. Guy was glad that Robin Hood and the gang came in time, destroying Vaisey's plans to kill King Richard and Marian. He hadn't seen the king in the daylight before, but now he was impressed with Richard's behavior: the king handled the situation with wisdom, dignity, and verve, and now Guy could understand what Hood had seen in Richard and why he had followed the monarch in the Crusade in the Holy Land.

The Saracens thundered a war cry. Allan and Much ran to King Richard, Carter, and Marian: they handed them two scimitars, which they had taken from the killed Saracens, for they needed weapons to fight for their lives. Marian still had Gisborne's sword and decided to fight, even though she knew that Robin would probably object.

Many galloping Arabic horses entered the courtyard, and Robin drew his bow and prepared his arrows, wishing to take down as many enemies as possible. Vaisey definitely had more assassins hiding in the town, or he could have brought the reinforcement. Robin thanked providence that he had taken many arrows from the fallen Saracens. Robin fired an arrow, and one Saracen fell. Then he nocked several arrows, and the other Saracens fell from their horses to the sand.

Several assassins dismounted and launched the attack at the king and the gang. Vaisey, Northampton, and Hereford prudently stood aside; they preferred to watch the battle from afar, plotting the scenarios of their future, including the ways of their escape if they had lost the battle.

Disregarding the pain in his shoulder, King Richard unsheathed his sword and swung his sword in a deadly arc, blocking the Saracen's blow. He attacked his enemy with an intimidating combination of diagonal and overhead blows. In spite of his injury, the king was able to fight very well because he was the greatest swordsman in Christendom, the God of war on the battlefield and the only Christian general whom Saladin considered a worthy and strong rival.

Everyone understood that it was the fight to death: Little John had been killed today, and not everyone would probably be alive by sunset.

Despite the fact that the injury in his right side disturbed him, Carter followed the king's example and boldly engaged himself into the battle; he parried the blow of the assassin who advanced towards him, trying to stay close to his sovereign and protecting him, even though he himself was wounded. Allan tried to help Carter deal with the assassin, but the Crusader instructed him to protect the king from the back. Much was near Marian, trying to protect her in the fight at Robin's request. Will and Djaq fought back to back, blocking and parrying blows of their enemies.

Marian's safety, not even the king's, was Robin's first priority because he feared that he could lose her to death today. Much wanted to stay with his former master and shoot arrows at the enemies, but Robin ordered him to protect Marian, thinking that Carter, Allan, Will, and Djaq would be enough to take care of the king. For Marian it was better to stay in relative safety with Much close to her, all the more in the battle, than to be alone and surrounded by danger.

Robin continued shooting arrows from a crouching position. All his unused arrows were planted in the ground; every time he made a new shot he took a new arrow, holding his bow in the other hand. His aim was deadly, and his arrows slammed deeply into throats, chests, and flanks of assassins. The horses cried in fright, and the Saracens fell dead one by one.

There was nothing new for Robin in today's battle because he had always acted so on the Crusade. Robin again noticed how easy it was to kill: now he was the dark and bloodthirsty Robin like he had been on the Crusade.

While some time ago it was an organized attack of the Saracens, menacing and willing to take the life of the barbarian King of England and his defenders, now the battle looked like a circus of the rearing terrified horses and the assassins cursing the archer who was able to kill so many of them without even a bat of an eyelash. Robin nocked more arrows that sliced into the remaining Saracens, and more assassins dropped dead to the ground. It seemed that the outlaws could win the battle today.

All of the Saracen assassins had been instructed by Vaisey to do everything possible and impossible to kill the king, so attacks on the fighting monarch didn't cease even when the king's party seemed to gain the upper hand in the battle. But soon more Saracens arrived in the courtyard, and the sheriff commanded to kill the king and Robin Hood, whose shooting threatened to destroy his plans. More assassins attacked King Richard, and Robin shouted to surround their liege from all sides.

Robin's commands were obeyed by everyone, even by Marian to Robin's displeasure because he would have preferred her not to participate in the fight. He didn't know that Marian regretted she hadn't taken more lessons of swordplay from Robin in England, whose adroit and sophisticated fighting style was exactly what a soldier needed to survive in the Holy Land. She found it difficult to fight with the Saracens and the Black Knights because the infidels had a different fighting style; only Robin's shooting and her speed saved her from being skewed at least a couple of times.

Marian's sword clashed with the long curved blade of the tall, huge Saracen. She unsuccessfully tried to dispatch him, but failed because he was much stronger and more skilled with a sword. She took a step back, closer to the fountain, the sound of splashing and bubbling water somehow soothing her anxiety and nervousness. Advancing forward, the Saracen crushed at Marian a powerful diagonal blow that knocked the sword out of her hand. With a sneer of pleasure on his dark face, the man lunged at Marian, and she closed her eyes, feeling death, like a shadow, looming over her. But no penetration of cold steel followed: the Saracen lurched and fell as Much drove his blade into the man's back.

King Richard swung his sword at the Saracen's neck, and the blade chopped into the man's spine, at the base of his head; the Saracen screamed in pain, and his body gave a huge convulsive jerk. Much dispatched one assassin with a swift blow to his heart, and then he beheaded another man. Carter was involved in the battle with another assassin, swinging his sword in a couple of diagonal blows and finally slicing the blade deeply into his opponent's flank. Will and Djaq finished off several assassins.

Marian killed a Saracen. She had killed before when she had lived with Robin after her father's death and had participated in the raids with her betrothed and the gang, but never before had she fought in such a bloody battle. A wave of terror suffused her heart filled at the sight of the carnage around, and it was difficult to believe that she had also caused deaths of some of them. But there was no other way to survive, and an instinct of self-preservation drove Marian in the battle.

Allan dispatched one man and, wounded, he fell to the ground. Carter leaned down and plunged his sword into the heart of that groaning enemy. "Rot in hell," Carter said.

"Oh, I am not being funny, but he was already wounded," Allan gave a retort.

"The Crusader never leaves his job unfinished." Carter's voice was stern and cold.

"Oh, I see," Allan responded, a little amused.

Several arrows flew past them and struck the newly arrived assassins in their chests. "Robin's shooting is saving our lives," Carter said quite cheerfully. He clutched his wound that had been again torn open in the fight, knowing that in a moment he would have to fight again.

"Robin helped us a lot," Allan remarked.

Much had just dispatched one of the assassins who had persistently tried to get to the king. "There is no other marksman like my Master," he declared proudly.

"His archery skills are amazing. I may take a lesson," Will made an attempt to joke.

"Nobody will ever be as good with a bow as my Master," Much chaffed.

Carter gave a crooked smile. "Come on, Much. Robin will teach us will be better archers than he."

"Robin taught me to shoot when I was a small girl," Marian interjected as she stopped near her friends. "We usually had target practice at dawn, on one of our favorite clearings in Sherwood."

Much smiled. "Robin also taught me to fight and shoot."

King Richard, Will, and Djaq also had a short break, quietly conversing about the battle. A volley of arrows whizzed in the air, and then Robin urged them to be on high alert. The sound of galloping horses signaled the arrival of more Saracens. The battle continued as more Saracens appeared in the square, and everyone wondered how many assassins Vaisey had hired for the regicide attempt in Acre.

§§§

Allan killed the Saracen, but he was immediately attacked by a huge Saracen, whose figure, like a mountain, towered over his lean frame. After a prolonged fight, Allan found himself in trouble: with a diagonal blow, the man disarmed him and Allan lost his footing, falling to the sand. King Richard plunged his sword into the assassin's back before the Saracen could take Allan's life or wound him.

"Thank you, my liege," Allan said shyly, fearful to look at their liege.

Richard extended his hand to Allan. "You are welcome. Rise, lad," he said in heavily accented English.

Allan took the king's hand, and scrambled to his feet. He blinked in amazement as he didn't expect that Richard spoke barely understandable English. "Thank you, my lord," he said in an official tone.

The king let out a sigh. "What else could we do to atone for what we did in the morning?"

Allan also smiled. "You saved my life. We are even-steven."

"It seems we are." Richard clapped the younger man's shoulder.

Richard and Allan didn't have much time to talk as the fight wasn't over yet. Some assassins were still alive, trying to reach the king. There were several Saracen archers who had positioned themselves on the roof of the nearby building and started shooting arrows at the king and the outlaws, who had to hide. Fortunately, the aim of those Saracen archers wasn't perfect at all, and soon they tumbled dead to the sand from the roof, the shafts of Robin's arrows buried in their necks.

"Robin, well done," the king praised his favorite soldier.

Robin heard Richard's words and merely inclined his head; at that moment, he was looking at Marian, relieved to see that she was unharmed and that Much was by her side.

Robin turned his gaze at his liege and took in Richard's appearance, assessing the condition of the other man. The king briefly clutched his shoulder, but then swiftly took his hand away. Robin knew that Richard didn't like when his subjects saw him in pain and vulnerable. The king was an embodiment of his kingdom, and, thus, Richard had to be strong before others and in the face of death.

Next moment, more Saracens attacked; the sheriff and the Black Knights still stayed aside. Their loud war screams created a tumult across the dull landscape as the dark skinned assassins drew their swords and launched a new attack on the king. Vaisey had indeed prepared very well for the battle of Imuiz: his calculative mind invented the plan to have the outlaws significantly outnumbered, which would undoubtedly make Robin use all his arrows that allowed him to be almost invincible in a fight. However, the sheriff's plan had a fundamental flaw: he didn't take into account that Robin, a conniving man by nature, had taken arrows of the fallen enemies, significantly increasing his stock of arrows.

But Robin's arrows were not endless, and soon Robin found out that he no longer could use his bow. He leapt to his feet and unsheathed his scimitar. "For King Richard! For England!" he shouted, running towards the enemies and charging into the battle.

"For King Richard! For England!" the outlaws echoed.

"Much, stay with Marian!" Robin shouted as he parried a blow.

From the corner of his eye, Robin could see Marian and Much fighting like a team – like he himself and Much had fought on the Crusade. Robin himself fought with two men simultaneously. Dancing around them and lunging at them with diagonal, corner, and circular blows, he artfully deflected their blows. He dispatched the first man with a fast lunge to the heart. He ducked, swung around, and stabbed his second opponent into his shoulder; then he leaned down and thrust his scimitar into the man's chest.

Despite his tiredness, Robin's sword skills were murderous. He fought with natural grace, dark beauty, and tremendous agility, using sophisticated tricking blows and outsmarting his enemies.

"Hood is bloodthirsty," Vaisey said. There was a look of fascination instead of a nauseous smile on his face because he had always been impressed by Robin's fighting skills. "He is willing to kill today."

"Nothing unusual," the Earl of Northampton commented. "Hood killed many Saracens when he headed the king's private guard. People say that he has blood of a thousand of the infidels on his hands."

Vaisey whistled. "A thousand?"

Northampton shrugged. "I have heard about that many times. The guards say that Locksley killed so many people that they stopped counting after the first battle in the Holy Land. I didn't see that myself because I didn't sail from England with King Richard and joined the king's Guard only three years ago."

The Earl of Hereford slapped Vaisey on the shoulder. "My lord, I joined the Crusade together with him, and I saw everything with my own eyes. Locksley fought like a possessed man in Messina, in Limassol, and in every battle in the Holy Land. He killed more than a thousand of the heathens."

"Go on," the sheriff prompted, interested.

Hereford nodded. "In battles, Huntingdon usually stayed near his beloved King and methodically fired arrows at the Saracens, every arrow finding its mark." He sneered. "However, he never killed women and children; he organized their evacuation when the king's army infiltrated Saracen villages."

The sheriff rewarded the Black Knights with a slight curve of his lips and a look that was both indulgent and amused all at the same time. "Definitely, I underestimated the pretty boy," he concluded with a dark smirk on his lips. "But he still has no guts to kill women and children."

They watched Robin and the Saracen circle each other, lunging and parrying. Robin dodged from the blow and swung his scimitar at the Saracen. The tips of their swords clashed, but Robin didn't attack: he jumped backwards, half turning to his opponent, a tricking gesture to cause confusion. Then Robin swung around, jumped forward, and skewered the man through his throat.

Northampton picked up his sword and twirled it in his hands a couple of times, either experimentally or facetiously. "Locksley is deadly with a sword, but he already is tired," he voiced his opinion.

Hereford chuckled. "This is what I have been waiting for."

Vaisey raised a quizzical brow, his lips curved in a smile. "Will you make me happy and kill Hood?"

Hereford smiled. "This is what I am going to do," he replied as he unsheathed his sword.

The Earl of Hereford gave a loud way cry and ran towards Robin. Robin lunged at the Black Knight, but Hereford quickly parried and swung his sword at Robin's head. Robin twisted his body to avoid the blade, and his rival lunged at him with a downward blow. They circled each other, exchanging taunting remarks and powerful blows; each of them wished the other dead.

Guy still lay on the ground, observing the battle. He was relieved that Robin's annoying manservant was protecting Marian; he was also impressed by Marian's fighting skills that were better than he had expected when he had discovered the true identity of the Nightwatchman. Guy pulled his gaze from Marian and scanned the square, silently trying to count the number of the dead bodies on the sand. The outlaws were winning, but everything could change in a matter of seconds. Despite his hatred for Robin, Guy wanted him to win today.

There was a sudden scurry of movement in the area where Guy lay. Then he saw Robin fighting with Hereford. From occasional glimpses of the fight, Guy could see that exhaustion was already catching up on Robin, whose movements were not as swift and adroit as before. Robin began to make mistakes in a fight, and his attention was rather unfocused. Guy hated Hood, but the idea of his enemy's death at the hands of one of the Black Knights filled him with a feeling of internal protest.

Robin lunged at his opponent with a circular blow. As Hereford blocked, Robin swung his sword in an overhead blow, leading to a series of smooth, elegant blows and finishing with a quick spin that he performed, however, at a slower speed than he usually did.

Robin paused for a moment to catch his breath, and Hereford also stopped moving, waiting for Robin to start advancing again. Hereford had learnt a long time ago that Robin's fighting style was based on unpredictability of lunges, adroitness of movements, and a multitude of tricking blows; he paused, waiting for a convenient moment to kill.

Robin stepped forward, intending to crush a downward blow at the traitor; but the Earl of Hereford was quicker and blocked Robin's blow. Robin took a step aside and ducked; then he advanced forward and lunged at Hereford from another angle. The Black Knight didn't expect the blow of that type, but he deflected it, cursing Robin aloud. Hereford made another attack with a chopping motion of the blade, landing with the edge against Robin's scimitar, but the outlaw sidestepped and parried.

The battle between the king's savior and the Black Knight raged upon the entire length of the courtyard for quite some time. Hereford didn't participate in the earlier battles and wasn't as tired as Robin. The enemies circled one another as Robin used circular and crisscross blows attacking Hereford. Robin traded a series of the fiercest blows with his enemy, feeling that every movement became a torture because his body begged him for rest, but the fight went on and on.

Hereford raised his sword to make an overhead blow. Robin predicted that and raised his scimitar high above his head to block two-handed chop. Suddenly, Robin felt lightheaded from exhaustion and the heat, and his sword trembled in his weakened arms; he dropped to one knee. Trying to rectify the situation, Robin swept his blade in a silver arc to crash it against the older man's knee with sufficient force to bring him down; then he pushed himself back and up in a heave to get to his feet.

Robin quickly was on his feet and stepped forward, pressing the point of his sword against the traitor's neck. "You should have tried harder to kill me, Hereford."

The Earl of Hereford gave a frightening roar of rage, and raised his legs, kicking Robin in the stomach. Robin staggered backwards and fell; his sword slipped from his hands to the sand, and he was disarmed. Vaisey saw Robin Hood who lay pinned to the ground, and there was a roar of the sheriff's malignant laughter, not at Robin's defeat but at the opportunity to kill Hood.

Marian and Much saw that Robin's life was in grave danger, but they couldn't save him because they were surrounded by the Saracens. Many Saracens lay dead or dying, but the sheriff's reinforcements arrived, and the battle raged on and on. King Richard was couldn't allow himself to be distracted as he was attacked again. Carter already lay exhausted on the ground.

The Earl of Northampton also charged into the battle and tried to make his way to the king. But he met Allan, whom he, however, quickly cornered near the fountain. Northampton wounded Allan in his shoulder and the outlaw tumbled to the sand with a loud groan. From the corner of his eye, Will noticed what had happened to his friend. As the king was relatively safe at that moment, Will was able to leave Richard's side: he saved Allan's life a moment before the Saracen could strike a fatal blow.

Marian launched a new aggressive attack against the Saracen who had been trying to overpower her in the past minutes. "Robin!" she shouted. Fear sharpened her voice and reverberated off the thick walls of the Arabic buildings fringing the square. "Robin! Robin!" she screamed again; in her heart, despair raged like a whirlwind. "No! No! No!" She felt as if she were drowning in an ocean of despair.

Guy of Gisborne saw Robin fall, and he heard Marian's desperate cries. Guy remembered how violently Marian had cried when they had found Sir Edward's lifeless body in the street, but even at that moment she wasn't as desperate and horror-stricken as she was at that instant, at least not in Guy's presence. He slowly turned his head and saw Marian locked in a fight with the assassin; his heart skipped a beat as his eyes registered terror, despair, and madness on her face.

Marian feared to lose Robin Hood, and that thought was in Guy's bosom and brain, like a stab of a knife. Guy understood the true depths of Marian's love for Robin, knowing that she loved Robin with a deep, pure, ardent, and real love; he didn't need more proof that her heart belonged to his mortal foe. _Marian always was Robin's_, Guy said to himself with bitterness: she would have never been his even if he dragged her to the altar and forced her to marry him.

The sheriff passed by Guy, casting only a quick glance at his former henchman and laughing at him; but he didn't say even a word to Guy, perhaps intending to deal with him later. Guy could see Vaisey heading to the defeated Robin. At that fateful moment, Guy made up his mind: he preferred Vaisey dead and Robin alive. Gritting his teeth as pain shot through him, Guy started crawling towards one of the dead Saracens; his hand found and grabbed a scimitar that belonged to that assassin.

"Locksley, beg me for mercy," the Earl of Hereford hissed between clenched teeth.

Robin grinned. He would give no one satisfaction to see him vulnerable. "I will never beg for mercy a low scum and a wretched traitor like you," he responded in a firm, steady voice.

The sheriff approached Robin, looking down at his enemy. "La di da di da! The great Robin Hood was defeated by one of his former men from the king's private guard." An abominable smile manifested on his face. "An hour ago, I couldn't imagine that, my friend."

Robin flashed a cheeky grin. "You should remember this moment very well, for soon your memory will begin to fail you due to your old age."

The sheriff broke into loud laughter, ignoring the outlaw's joke. "My dear little Hooddie, you won't be able to marry your leper Marian. You won't return to England and live in sunny Sherwood until the king's return," he mocked. "You are doomed to die today."

Robin smiled with a mirthful smile, his expression fearless. "Even if I die now, there will always be people who will fight for my cause because it is the right thing to do," he assured his enemies.

"Even if I don't kill the king today, you, Hood, will be dead, and I will relish in that," Vaisey retorted, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure; he looked at Hereford. "Hold our outlaw, Hereford. Now I will punish him for his annoyance – he is mine."

"Robin!" Marian shouted, trying to reach him but still unable to break through the line of the Saracens.

"My Marian," Robin murmured to himself. He shut his eyes and tried to gather all his strength to save himself from death, but he had no strength left.

The Earl of Hereford grabbed Robin's shoulders and held him tightly to prevent the outlaw from any attempt to escape his fate. The sheriff took the sword into his arms and leaned over Robin. They didn't see that Gisborne was slowly crawling towards them, with great caution, a silver scimitar flashing in his arm; there was a huge red trace on the sand behind Guy as he was still losing blood.

Vaisey stared down at Robin with a malevolent smile on his face. "Finally, you lost, Hood," he drawled every word, savoring the moment. "I am going to start with you; then I will deal with Gisborne."

"Die now, Locksley!" Hereford laughed.

"You will get your due in the end," Robin said with devilish confidence, his expression devoid of emotions, as if he didn't care that they were going to murder him.

The sheriff smirked. "Hood, I used to like our little skirmishes, but I am tired of them." He lifted his sword above Robin to strike a fatal blow. "Bye-bye, my pretty little bird!"

§§§

Time slowed and the world ceased to exist, and Robin squeezed his eyes shut tightly. There was only the image of Marian's beautiful face in Robin's mind as he prepared to depart from earth. He regretted that he didn't have a proper wedding with Marian in the Locksley church as they dreamt. But at least they had exchanged marriage vows today, and that thought restored his light-heartedness and his belief in the fair world that had seemed only chaos and death a moment before.

"Master!" Robin heard Much scream; he could feel movement somewhere beside him.

Robin anticipated Vaisey's finishing strike to come, but nothing happened. Robin's eyes were still shut, and he couldn't see Much rushing to him and placing himself between Robin and the sheriff.

Vaisey stumbled and fell on his backside; he was more stunned than hurt and disoriented. "What the hell?" he blurted out, his expression stupefied. He shook his head and turned to Much who lay on top of Robin with Vaisey's sword protruding out of his right side.

Robin opened his eyes. He couldn't understand what had happened, but he could feel the weight of Much's body upon him and he could see the sheriff's astounded expression. "Much!" he called. "Much!" Then he noticed the sword driven in Much's side, and his expression evolved into sheer horror.

The Earl of Hereford's expression was even more shocked than Vaisey's. He was no longer holding Robin and took a couple of steps back. An arrow whizzed in the air, hitting the Black Knight in his throat, and he fell dead. It was Marian's arrow: after the king helped her overpower several Saracens, she rushed to one of the fallen assassins, took his bow, and shot an arrow at Hereford.

Next moment, Guy's figure loomed in Robin's eyesight, behind Vaisey who still sat on the sand. Robin watched Guy lift his hand that held the hilt of scimitar with the effort, his face screwed up in pain mingled with hatred he felt for Vaisey. Unfortunately, Vaisey saw the movement in his peripheral vision and distinguished Guy's face; he groped for the dagger concealed in the inner pocket of his tunic.

"Gisborne," Robin said to himself, his eyes wide in disbelief. He didn't understand what was happening.

As Guy lunged at his former master's unguarded neck, the sheriff leaned forward and plunged the dagger deeply into Guy's chest. Guy gave a scream of agony as the pain he had never felt before slashed through him, but he still found strength to stab Vaisey at the neck.

The sheriff convulsed in throes of death near Guy – he was killed by his former henchman whom he had taught to kill and whom he had brutalized. There was a massive spurt of blood, and Vaisey went still, blood pooling underneath him, Gisborne's scimitar half-severing the sheriff's head from the body.

Robin stared at Gisborne in confusion. Darkness vanished, his blurred gaze brightened. He could still feel Much's weight on his body, and the reality slowly sank in. Robin moved slightly, and Much's body slipped from him and fell on the sand next to him. Robin stared at Much with the sheriff's sword driven in his body, his eyes wide with shock, feeling as if he were having a repellent, lethargic dream, frightening and forcing him to struggle for wakefulness.

"Much," Robin whispered. Tears came to his eyes, and he lowered his chin, looking at his palms that were covered with crimson, sticky blood of his former manservant. "Please open your eyes, Much!"

Marian approached Robin and knelt by Much. "Robin, are you alright?" she asked, her eyes darting between Robin and Much. She needed to know about Robin at first because he was her main concern.

Robin lifted his eyes and stared at Marian. "Much saved my life," he said in a shaking voice. "The sheriff would have killed me if Much hadn't shielded me from him."

She felt relief washing over her because Robin didn't die and was even unscathed. "Robin, I am so sorry," she murmured, not knowing what else she could say.

Robin turned his head and looked at the Earl of Hereford's corpse, an arrow sticking out of his neck. "Who shot him?" he inquired, turning his gaze at Marian.

Marian swallowed heavily. "I killed him, fearing that he would attack you when Much rushed to you."

Robin's eyes were moist with tears. "Thank you, my love."

She gave a barely noticeable nod. "I couldn't lose you," she whispered.

"Thank you," he repeated, his heart thundering in his chest.

Marian stared at the bodies of Vaisey and Guy; her eyes registered a slight movement of Guy's legs. "Guy is still alive," she stated so quietly that her voice vibrated in her chest. Then her eyes focused on Robin. "Robin, I need to do something."

Robin understood why she wanted to go check on Gisborne. He gazed at the sheriff, regretting that he hadn't killed the evil man in England. If he hadn't been so unwilling to kill after his return from the Crusade, they wouldn't have had to go to the Holy Land and Much wouldn't have needed to sacrifice his life for Robin. As his eyes fell on Gisborne, he reflected upon the unlikelihood of the circumstances that had brought him to this point: his archenemy had achieved what he had failed to do because of his non-killing policy, and he felt anger at himself simmering in his blood.

"Go to him if you want," Robin told Marian, and there was not even a trace of displeasure or jealousy in his voice. He suspected that one of Guy's wounds was a mortal one, and he didn't want to deprive Marian of a chance to talk to him for the last time; not after Guy had killed the sheriff.

Marian nodded. "Thank you." She rose to her feet and walked away.

"Much was a hero," King Richard said, bowing his head in respect.

Robin lowered his head. "Everything happened so quickly."

Suddenly, Much's eyes flung open, and he stared at Robin. "Master," he whispered. "Master…"

Robin clutched Much's hand. "Much, you are alive!" he exclaimed, hope stirring in his heart.

Djaq was by Much's side, her eyes focused on the sword in Much's side. "Robin, give me more place. I need to have a look on the wound," she declared, taking control of the situation.

King Richard stood near Robin and Much, watching Djaq's manipulations with grave eyes. He had seen too many wounded and dying soldiers, and he had no doubt that Much was dying. He swung his gaze to Carter who lay on the sand in the middle of the courtyard; Allan sat on the sand next to Carter, clutching his wounded shoulder; Will was standing next to where Carter and Allan sat. The king blamed himself for the deaths of so many people in Imuiz: if he had trusted Robin from the beginning, the outcome of the fight would have been different.

Forcing herself to remain outwardly calm, Marian walked towards where Guy lay. Guy lay on his back, next to the sheriff's corpse. He's steel blue eyes, full of pain and betraying no true emotions, met with Marian's sapphire blue orbs full of confusion. She didn't know how to act towards Guy after their conversation in the courtyard. She understood that she had hurt Guy very much in the worst possible way, but she didn't regret that she had revealed the truth to him.

Marian crouched and seated herself on the sand. She saw the dagger in Guy's chest and Carter's arrow in Guy's shoulder which he hadn't removed yet; then her gaze fell on the pool of blood beneath his body. "Guy," she said his name as if the words were spoken breathlessly. "I am so proud of you."

Guy blinked in disbelief. "Proud of me?"

"You killed the sheriff," she clarified.

Guy grumbled something unclear under his breath, turning his head to look at the corpse of his former master. "I should have killed him a long time ago," he said seriously. "He didn't deserve to live."

She shifted uncomfortably on the ground. "You did the right thing, Guy."

"You offered me a deal, but I betrayed you to the sheriff." He took a deep breath, feeling pain in his chest intensifying and knowing that his end was very close. "I know that if I had killed Vaisey in Acre, you would have never married me if you learnt about Robin's survival."

Marian lowered her head, biting her bottom lip. "Guy, even if I married you, our marriage would have been a torture for us." She spent a few moments longer in a pressing silence, collecting her thoughts and not daring look at Guy. "Not everything is a choice. We cannot choose what we feel."

Guy let out a sigh of resignation. "And you love Hood," he murmured, tears shining in his eyes. After a courteous, oddly companionable silence, he spoke again. "I understand that you would have never loved a man like me. I damned myself when I started serving Vaisey."

She was still unable to look at Guy. "We make many choices – wrong and right choices."

His hand found Marian's and squeezed it, and then Marian finally gazed at him. "Marian, I love you even if you don't love me, even if you betrayed me so many times to Robin Hood," he said in a weak voice, looking into her eyes. "I killed Vaisey because I have always hated the sheriff more than Hood." He paused for a moment. "And I know that you want Hood to live."

Marian felt her lungs constrict, her heart throbbing; her hand was trembling in Guy's hand. She gave Guy a warm smile. "Thank you for saving Robin for me."

Guy gave her a bleak smile. "I killed the sheriff for myself, for you, and for your happiness," he said softly, surprised that he didn't feel any pain at the thought that Marian would spend her life with Robin, not with him. "I hope that Hood will make you happy and you won't regret your choice."

Marian was too astonished to speak for a long moment. She wanted to tell Guy that she had always loved Robin and that she would have chosen the outlaw even if Guy hadn't been their enemy. She had always seen the goodness in Guy's heart, but she could never be more than a friend for Guy. But the compassionate side of her nature prevailed over the part that wanted to tell him the truth. Guy was dying and she didn't need to make him completely disillusioned in his last moments.

She dropped her head. "Thank you for your understanding, Guy." Her eyes fixed on the dagger that was still inside Guy's chest. "I don't hate you, and I am sorry that the truth hurt you."

"You don't hate me." A low laugh erupted from his throat. "But you don't love me."

"I am sorry," she replied, guilt creeping into her voice.

"Marian," Guy whispered the name of the only woman whom he had ever loved. He stared into the emptiness, and a dreamy smile grazed his features as if he could see something magic and beautiful there. Then he drew his last breath, and shut his eyes forever. The man with fatal love was dead.

Marian called him, but he didn't respond to her. She realized that Guy had already died with her name on his lips as he breathed the hot air for the last time in his life. "Rest in peace, Guy," she murmured through tears that welled in her eyes. She gently touched his cheek, caressing it with her thumbs. "I hope you will find peace in your next life, even though you didn't have it on earth."

At the same time, Djaq was fighting tooth and nail for the life of Robin Hood's best friend. She had already removed Vaisey's sword from Much's body. Much was pale like a ghost, his blue eyes feverish and cloudy, and he was becoming weaker and weaker. Robin begged Djaq to save Much, but she didn't respond, working with Much's wound.

"Why hasn't the bleeding stopped yet?" Robin asked Djaq, his eyes brimming with tears.

Djaq lifted her hand to catch a fat tear from under her eye. "I am sorry, Robin. I don't think that I can do something else for Much." Then she climbed to her feet and walked to Will, Allan, and Carter.

"I understand." Robin sighed, resigned.

"England and I will never forget what you did today," the king promised.

Much smiled slightly. "I served you and Robin, and I am happy that I am dying for you."

"I am leaving you together," Richard answered; he stepped aside, giving them privacy for farewell.

Robin's features melt into a sad smile. "My beloved friend," he whispered, his heart almost collapsing in pain. "You are my best friend." He spoke to Much in a voice that sounded like a lullaby for a small child.

"The fight is over," Much rasped, feeling that it was more difficult to breathe now than a moment ago.

Robin sighed. "Why did you need to save me?" he asked, knowing the answer in advance.

Much shook his head. "Master, you are everything to me." He smiled, his eyes taking in his most beloved friend in the world whose life he had saved. "When I served the king, I served you. I would have done everything for you because I love you most of all in the world."

Robin cupped Much's cheek lovingly. "I don't deserve your love, my friend."

Much struggled for breath, his rasps were shallow. "You deserve everything the best life can give you, Master." He dragged a deep, painful breath. "You are alive, and only that matters."

Marian knelt to Much; she nodded at Robin, meaning that Guy had died. "Thank you for saving Robin, Much," she said softly, taking his hand in hers.

Much began coughing up with blood, indicating how severe his injury really was. When his cough subsided, he was quiet for a long time, feeling the droning rhythms of death drumming in his veins. "I want you to do something for me before I die." He looked between Marian and Robin. "When we were dying in the desert, you were getting married. I want you to get married before God calls me to Heaven." Much was almost gasping for breath as he uttered his speech.

Robin nodded, his eyelids heavy with tears. "I will do everything for you, Much."

"Can you carry on, please?" Much made his last request.

Marian swallowed her sob, looking at Robin. "Should we begin?"

Having heard Much's words, King Richard returned to Robin. "Robin," he called. As Robin looked up, the king put his enormous ruby ring in Robin's hand. Then he nodded at Robin, encouraging him to do what his dying friend wanted to see for the last time in his life.

Marian gave Robin a shy smile of embarrassment. "Make an honest woman out of me, Robin."

Robin took Marian's hand in his, gazing into her eyes. "I, Robin, take you, Marian, to be my wedded wife," he said in a voice thick with emotion, "to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish till death do us part." Then he slipped the ring onto her finger, feeling his heart pounding harder in delight that he was marrying the love of his life, even though it was happening on his best friend's deathbed.

Marian smiled at Robin. There was the happiest expression on her face Robin had ever seen. "I, Marian, take you, Robin, my beautiful, beautiful Lord of Locksley, to be my wedded husband. I promise to love you and to cherish you on earth and later in Heaven." She paused for an instant, feeling breathless in happiness that her dream was finally coming true. "For now and forever, till death do us part." A large smile blossomed on her flushed face. "Kiss me, my husband."

"My wife," Robin breathed.

Robin bent his head down and kissed her on the mouth with tenderness and passion. Marian winded her arms around his neck and responded to his kiss with eagerness, running her fingers through his hair. Robin deepened the kiss, and their tongues dueled together, their passion igniting.

As they finally parted from their embrace, Marian stared at Robin in fascination, thinking that he had never looked more handsome. Robin's eyes sparkled with love, and he thought that he was the happiest man in the world that he married Marian, the Queen of Sherwood and the keeper of his heart.

The spell was broken by Much's quiet moan. The couple looked at Much's smiling face. Much was happy that he was able to watch the wedding of Robin Hood and Maid Marian. He knew that Robin had loved Marian even when she had broken their betrothal and he had departed to the Holy Land. He knew that Robin hadn't stopped loving Marian during the five long years on the Crusade and that Robin's love for his former fiancée had grown deeper and stronger after their return.

"Much," Marian murmured; tears stung her eyes.

Robin cupped Much's head and planted a warm kiss on the dying man's forehead. "I love you, Much," he said as he drew back, looking directly into Much's eyes. His face was wet with tears. "You are my best and most loyal friend. You are a better man than I can ever be."

Much smiled heartily, tears trickling down his cheeks. "I love you so much, Master," he said hoarsely. He wanted to say something else, but he had to pause because the pain in his chest was too great. "But now I am happy because you are married to Marian and because you are happy."

"Much, I will never forget you," Robin said in an anguished voice.

Robin swallowed a sob. "Much, I will never forget you."

"You are our friend," Marian said quietly.

"Master," Much said in a whisper. His expression was dreamy as his mind drifted off to the happy times of their childhood. "Robin," he called his most beloved name. He coughed almost violently, and a narrow trickle of blood ran out of the corner of his mouth, and then life escaped him in a final sigh.

Djaq came to Much to check, and after a long silence the nod was given – Much was dead.

Everyone bowed their heads in respect to Much who had fought for England and had given his life for Robin Hood. Much's death served the great purpose – the salvation of Robin's life. Robin's happiness and safety were the main purposes of Much's life which he had chosen for himself many years ago when he had become Robin's manservant, and Much didn't fail in his mission to keep Robin safe.

Robin and Marian stared at one other, tears flowing from their eyes. They were hovering above Much's lifeless body like a dark cloud of despondency, although their silhouettes shimmered in the sunlight as if the orange flames of the sun were hitting them and reflected in a million tiny beams of golden light.

Robin was crying, and Marian was crying as well. Robin would have gladly collapsed in uncontrollable sobs if they hadn't been on the battlefield, in the presence of the king and many other people. Robin was bereft, and his heart was ripped out of his chest when Much drew his last breath, and his heart constricted painfully, as if a hand had squeezed it. He was staring at Much with tears in his eyes, not so much stricken as horrified and heartbroken, and his only conscious thought was that Much was dead.

Marian shifted on the sand closer to her husband, and Robin let her pull him to herself; then his arms encircled her back. Robin buried his head into her shoulder, clinging to Marian as if she were his only saving grace and the most precious thing in the world.

Much was dead, and now he had only Marian and his surviving friends, but Marian was more important to him than anyone else – _she had become_ _'his everything' and his entire world_. Robin couldn't breathe or think, and the world collapsed around him. Only the feeling of Marian's soft, warm skin reminded him that he was still alive and had a purpose to live – to live for her.

King Richard, Will, and Djaq went to the alley where Little John had fallen before. To everyone's amazement, the king himself offered to find and bring John's body to the courtyard. Allan and Carter were wounded more seriously than the king; Robin was distraught after Much's death, and Marian was trying to console him. Richard thought that the situation made him obliged to help the outlaws in all the ways possible. After they returned to the courtyard, dragging Little John's corpse because he was too heavy to carry him, they could see Marian and Robin still locked in a tight embrace.

A grave silence reigned in the courtyard. After the fight with the sheriff and the Saracens, there were only King Richard and his defenders on the battlefield. There were many dead assassins, dressed in the blood-stained Arabic clothing; their bodies were scattered everywhere on the ground. Sheriff Peter Vaisey of Nottingham, Guy of Gisborne, the Black Knights, Much, and Little John were dead; Allan and Carter were injured and needed medical help. They survived the battle, but the price of their victory was too high because they lost many friends today.

At that very moment, King Richard decided that he would make peace with Saladin and return to England. He understood that Prince John wouldn't stop, and the Black Knights who would attempt regicide again. The king took an oath that he would execute those who had signed the Pact of Nottingham. He couldn't send his own brother to death, but he could punish the traitors who helped John in his plots to overthrow and murder Richard.

King Richard, Robin, and others didn't know yet that he would have to spend in German captivity and that England would bleed out to raise the funds for the king's ransom. The battle of Imuiz was over, but the fight for the king's safe return to England was only beginning.

Later, Robin and the outlaws would spend more than a year hiding in the woods after their return to England and helping Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine collect money for the royal ransom. But the battle of Imuiz was forever engraved in their minds as the day when many good people gave their life for England, for King Richard, and for Robin Hood's cause.

* * *

><p><em>I hope that you liked this story. <em>

_Much died saving Robin's life. Much's deathbed scene was tragic to a great extent, especially when the dying man told Robin about his enormous love for him. Much loves Robin more than anyone else, and Robin is everything to him. So it is very realistic that Much heroically sacrifices his life for Robin. In this story, Much saved Robin's life twice: he killed James when the traitor was trying to kill Robin and then sacrificed his life for Robin saving him from Vaisey. Besides, Much saved Marian's life from one of the Saracens when she was cornered near the fountain. In this story, Much is more heroic than Robin._

_I wanted Marian and Robin to get married in this story. As Robin's safety and happiness are the most important things in Much's life, I suppose that Much could have asked Robin to marry Marian on his deathbed__. Robin cannot reject his best friend's deathbed request, and he willingly marries Marian because he loves her and because it is Much's last wish. The king witnesses the exchange of vows between Marian and Robin, so their marriage is legal and valid._

_Like in canon, Guy learns the truth about Marian's true relationship with Robin in the scene of their confrontation in the courtyard. As it happened on the show, Guy is very angry and can barely control himself, but Carter appears on time and saves Marian's life by shooting Guy. I didn't want to kill Carter because I never liked how he died in S2 Finale: he was an excellent fighter and a Crusader, but the sheriff took him down so easily. So Carter has a better fate than in canon._

_When the sheriff betrays Guy's loyalty, Guy understands that everything he did for power and wealth was for nothing. I am sure that a part of Guy's heart had always hated or at least loathed the sheriff, but he begins to hate him even more after Vaisey easily betrays his loyalty because of Guy's failure to kill the king. In the end, Guy comes to the conclusion that he wants Robin to survive and wants the sheriff dead. Guy kills the sheriff, but unfortunately his master also kills him._

_You may ask me why I killed off Guy, one of my favorite characters. I have to confess that I wanted Guy and the sheriff to kill each other because it is an unusual outcome for the regicide attempt in Acre and because I like everything unusual. I also killed off Guy for drama and this time even for his redemption. If we assume that Vaisey had indeed hired so many assassins for the battle in Imuiz, then it is logical that King Richard would be very angry and it is unlikely that he would spare Guy's life; Robin has no reason to speak for Guy with the king. The king would want to execute Guy for high treason if he survives his wounds from Carter's arrows. Usually, I am not fond of Guy's redemption by death, but in this case I can see no good way out of the situation for Guy except giving him an honorable death at the sheriff's hand while he himself also murders Vaisey._

_I killed Little John just to make the outcome of the regicide attempt look more realistic. Robin Hood cannot always win all his battles without suffering losses, so someone needs to die. _

_Thank you for reading his story. I would be very grateful for reviews._

_Your sincerely, Penelope Clemence_


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